The Church of What's Not Happening
by smokingace
Summary: Kanda and Lavi arrive at a church to wait for the others. Kanda must have some time to rest, amongst other things.


**Title:** The Church of What's Not Happening

**Pairing:** Kanda/Lavi

**Rating:** R

**Disclaimer:** DGM belongs to Hoshino Katsura et al.

**A/N: **I like weeds. Don't ask me if I like weed. This is only a hint of the humor I like to give you.

&

This church without its steeple is but a small Italian chapel, near the middle of nowhere. This chapel is but a ghost town all of its own, breathing scraps of confessions and dust of mice and the honest side of creepy. Like it's been left for dead, somewhere in a land that Kanda wants to be far, far away. The farther, the better, because Kanda does not look forward to going home tonight.

No, not what he meant. He means back to base, back to the Order.

Back to order.

It's not his fault he can't put his thoughts together; it was all Lavi, saying how he wants to be free to do –

Do what?

Lavi raises his arms in that giving-up-I'm-just-giving-up-now way of his. Kanda mirrors the action by setting down his katana. Mugen has had it rough. Pulling it from the sheath, he aims so that the moon bounces off of it through the stained glass.

It's a rose, Lavi says, pointing up.

Kanda makes a sound to imply how much he hates roses. He feels more for weeds. Being honest with himself, he's sort of like a weed.

Kanda has always been a weed. It's only a matter of time before he is plucked. Cut down.

Wouldn't that make somebody out there happy.

He gives a sardonic smile and Lavi stoops down to where Kanda is sitting on the pew, cleaning Mugen cleaner than clean. Cleaner than a mirror in a girl's bedroom. He'd seen one once, by the way, a bedroom with a girl in it. A girl looking at herself, and then taking down the mirror.

Lavi's face is in his, darkened like coal, moving out of the moonshine. His stomach grumbles just then and Kanda looks sharply at him. Lavi grins, really close, the scar on his lip white, his teeth white but noticeably crooked in the front, like things had been shoved together in his childhood, in such a rush to get into the thick of things.

That's a laugh, considering Lavi never was a child. They were never children.

The girl Kanda had seen in her bedroom with the mirror.

Why d'you smile like that? Lavi asks so softly, so softly, as if he's okay with floating away.

Kanda stops smiling. I was remembering something, he says.

Something? It must be real good.

Must be, Kanda says after not saying anything for a time. They lick their lips, Lavi in his obvious way, Kanda in his modest way. He watches as Lavi's tongue washes the scar on his bottom lip. He tears his eyes away to put Mugen back into its sheath. He puts it on the pew, stands up, and walks very calculatedly toward the lower window, where he can see a graveyard, infinitely fuzzy.

I was thinking about how I'd like to sleep for a while, he lies. But it's the truth.

Lavi lets out a snort that rides up Kanda's ass. He turns around. Lavi acts like he never said a thing. Kanda searches for something outside the window again.

The truth is, Lavi wants to run. He likes it; he's said before that, when things get too hairy, he likes to imagine himself running across land, water, air. He likes to imagine it so much that his heart beats too, too quickly at the thought, beating and beating and pounding right out of his ribcage. He says it's a gross feeling, grossly accurate. He also says that he's always alone.

Kanda likes to breathe in relief; when he dreams, he is alone too.

The difference is that, he imagines himself going backward, rewinding, reincarnating himself as, well, that's something he hasn't figured out yet. Maybe a baby; most people start out that way.

At this, Kanda leaves the chapel, goes around through the weeds that reach to his knees and muck from the earlier rain, and clears off a tomb in the ground. It's just rock slab, nothing too fancy, something just hard enough to use. He turns his head a moment to watch for movement, and then goes back to washing a spot off with his spit and a finger. While he does this, he wonders why they have to wait for General Theodore. It almost seems highly irregular.

But to him, this is common procedure, somehow.

Lavi should know. Lavi is somewhere behind him, doing the familiar, despised watching. He's not just looking over Kanda; he's looking into him, and this, this tastes tangy.

What are you doing? Lavi says. Kanda gives him a view of his backside as he positions himself on top of the rock slab.

Sleeping, Kanda finally says, wondering if Lavi will watch him sleep.

Lavi sighs, wandering back toward the chapel. I wouldn't raise the dead if I were you, Lavi sighs again. Come back in when it starts to rain.

Kanda glances at the cloudless sky. Rain. Right.

He goes into this trance at first, focusing on sleep as if it's nirvana, right against the rock. It's so cold. It's so familiar. His trance is kind of full of memories of seeing Lenalee looking at herself in that mirror, kind-of-full-of because he just can't stand to see her this way. It's been years since he'd seen her do something like that, and right now the memory is teeming with stars and glitter. He remembers it as something he cannot live without, like the two words that can change everything inside of him in one breath.

He chooses to veer away from this memory and concentrate on feeling better, better. Better.

Lavi doesn't even know why Kanda feels this way. No one needs to know why.

He shifts his skirt so his legs stay properly covered.

--

For some reason, all his efforts put forth into dreaming of something within his control are abruptly shattered by the appearance of.

_Allen_.

Walking a dock that jets into the seventh sea, sleeve ripped up his arm, face blurred by the sun, by the water streaming down between the blurs; half of his face is smudged, bloodless; perhaps the scar isn't there anymore.

Kanda can see him through this glass film. It's all green and blue, bursting. And then he realizes he is just under the surface of the seventh sea, just beneath, paralyzed there. He gulps down; it's impossible to breathe in the water, and if he is gulping it down, he's got gills somewhere. His hair starts to brush over his eyes, his face, so that everything grows dark. They're growing dark now.

Wait! Someone shouts; and he's out of the water, onto the dock, the bluest, blackest oil flowing right out of him. Wait, there's that word again, wait. His eyes roll up. Allen stands over him, face completely blurred out except for the lips.

Kanda turns to see Lavi running himself off the dock.

--

He grumbles himself awake. He moans at the crick in his neck, that familiar crick. He pops it in a would-be fatal way. He senses a weird consolation.

I thought you were calling for me, Lavi says, jarring Kanda into fuck! mode. He's about to hit something. Lavi's lying.

I would never call for you, Kanda wants to tell him, with Mugen, but then he remembers that he left Mugen on the pew.

He gets up. Lavi follows him. He goes around the chapel. Lavi follows him. He enters the chapel. Lavi follows him. He stops. And Lavi walks right past him.

We'll be waiting for Allen, for a while, Lavi adds, hands going all over Mugen on the pew.

It's amazing how dumb Lavi can be.

And smart.

Kanda takes Mugen safely away from him, thinking how he could have slept out there with only his bare hands.

It'll be a while, Lavi repeats.

And then, Kanda says.

Er, the general, Lavi replies vaguely. His bottom lip is so full that Kanda could split it for him. Actually, it's not such a bad idea.

He doesn't want to be asleep when Al – _Walker_ catches up with them.

With Lavi dawdling like that, he wonders why a person like Walker would lift a person like Kanda out of the water. He also wonders why a person like Lavi would just.

Lose himself.

I've got something to tell you, Lavi says as Kanda settles down in a pew closest to the double doors. Kanda gives him the sign to keep talking. Lavi doesn't.

So Kanda just imagines himself to be apart of the wood of the pew. He waits for some time, listening for some kind of ticking to take effect. The wood is like an erection against his tailbone. He lifts his head back, the back of the pew digging into his skull, cutting him down. Trying to daydream to stay awake, he runs his fingers through his fringe that feels like tack.

He hadn't realized the dream had made him sweat.

Are you going to tell me, Kanda says heavily, voice cracking the darkness. His brain seems to rattle on, flicker on and off, confusing memories with reality -

_You're going to sleep now, Yuu, you're going to sleep now, Yuu, you're going to sleep now and you won't wake up until we are done with you, Yuu, Yuu, Yuu, we give you your name, do not be afraid, Yuu, oh Yuu, yes, you're the closest to heaven as we can get you. Yuu -_

And then he is opening his eyes blearily, wiping his lip that has become parched. He lifts his sore head and his eyes could bleed.

You fell asleep, Lavi says, roosting atop the altar, so put together, so sure. He unfolds himself from it next, long legs swinging down, touching ground, knees crouching briefly, like a spider. He stands there, Kanda's eyes following him to his hips. Kanda's eyes go to Lavi's uniform that had been undone while Kanda was sleeping again. The gloves had been removed.

Kanda doesn't move as Lavi strides over to him, down the aisle, down, down the aisle. He somehow gets this really fucked up urge to show Lavi the workings inside of him. Like he would give anything to release his dreams to Lavi.

They're just desires, after all.

To be needed, to be wanted, to be saved.

No one knows this.

Kanda closes his mouth as an afterthought, pursing it, biting it, wanting to throw up. Just seeing Lavi like that makes him want to spill it all. His mouth goes really, listlessly dry. It's a real feeling.

Lavi ends his walk down the aisle at Kanda's pew; he grins with his eye. Kanda tries not to scowl too hard back. He wants to spite, but he still wants to be wanted.

His heart makes him sick. But. He is not heartsick. He is his own god, and He, forbids it.

Something falls into place.

Did you have something to say? Kanda asks.

Lavi doesn't nod or shake his head or give any reason for Kanda to listen to him. He descends upon Kanda like a cloud of death. His hands slide up over the air.

You're doing it again, he wants to tell him. You're doing it again. Again.

I lied, I've got nothing for you, Lavi says tentatively.

Yes you do, Kanda thinks.

Lavi tilts his head, looking at him, like a shroud of death.

Yes, you do, Kanda thinks.

Lavi slides a leg between Kanda's thighs, as loud as death.

You do, Kanda thinks.

Lavi straddles Kanda's leg, resting there, pushing his groin into him.

Yes, Kanda thinks, breaking. Yes, Kanda thinks, cock waking.

We can do this until, Lavi suggests.

Kanda doesn't know what he's waiting for; he simply loses his patience and grabs Lavi's coat and pulls him in, kissing-crushing that annoying-toying bottom lip.

He can feel that pisser smiling.

Lavi holds on with crushing fingers, fucking fingers.

--

Kanda comes in Lavi's fist just as they overhear someone calling near the chapel.

It's a funny, absolute thing. And possibly an absolutely funny thing, but Kanda would never go that far.

He's feeling a little better, watching Lavi make smart decisions, which consists of Kanda sitting there with a sudden, cold expression and Lavi springing from Kanda's lap with a dirty hand and an even dirtier mouth. He curses all the way to his scarf strung up on the candelabra and wipes, almost forlornly, and hurries himself over to the double doors. He opens one. Peeks out.

I'll say it before you do, Walker's here, Kanda says, deadpanning.

Sorry, Yuu, wipe your own hands. Lavi adjusts his eyepatch.

Such unnecessary tripe.

Ahoy, Alleeen, Lavi calls out now, swinging the door open.

In the thick of things, Kanda doesn't care to mention that Lavi's pants are still open.

Feeling better, yes. Better.


End file.
